


Brighter Days With You

by florelflowers



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, I don't know what this is!, M/M, i've never written a soulmate fic before, so if things are wrong i'm sorry!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 12:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14618937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/florelflowers/pseuds/florelflowers
Summary: Soulmate AU where you can only see color when you make physical contact with your soulmate.Or, Ohm feels like he's never going to find his soulmate, Toonz is a flirt, and falling in love on a bridge is a good starting point





	Brighter Days With You

 

 

It begins as a bleak world, a colorless life with only muted tones of gray. Where swirls of bright pigment are gifted to the lucky ones, when skin touches skin and at long last the universe makes sense- whispers  _ “finally”  _ as lost souls find their way back home. 

The existence of soulmates is a question that goes hand-in-hand with the ever wondering one for the creation of the universe. There is no real answer for how it came to be, how two souls could be split apart, and how life would be a tiresome journey for finding the other half, that in turn, aches for completion. Those who want answers will never get them, and it’s become something that just is- a fixed phenomenon that will not waver nor cease to exist, it is everlasting, binding strangers, enemies, and childhood friends together in a rush of relief, when they can breathe, “I’ve found you.” 

Ryan understands this, but at the age of twenty-eight and still there are no shades of pink or red or blue, as described beautifully in books and by friends, he begins to lose hope. It’s entirely possible, he’ll think, walking down dull streets and gazing up at a bland sky, that there’s nobody out there for him. It’s not as rare as it should be; countless people go their whole lives in search for their missing half, but never find them, and the mudded faces of their companions and the world as they know it, will be the last thing they see. Everyone has a soulmate, but sharing the same lifetime is a chance most can only have faith in. 

Maybe the timing isn’t right, or maybe Ryan’s just too impatient. But the lack of someone by his side who’s own world will light up when they meet, is discouraging. He wants to feel love, unconditional love that can only be given by his perfect match, by the person who is indisputably made for him, and him them. He wants to see  _ color,  _ to look at the stars and see light instead of dullness that stretches on and on, to look at it in wonder in the way his friend Craig does. Or play with flowers in his hand and murmur, “I still can’t believe how pretty they are, how I used to pluck them and see nothing” in the same tone of amazement Brock often uses. 

Bitterness is a taste he gets mouthfuls of, as days pass slowly with no change. Shoulders brush on busy sidewalks, fingers graze skin as he hands over money for food, and handshakes are given during important meetings. There’s always that initial intake of air, and thoughts go crazy, yelling  _ this could be it;  _ eyes that involuntarily closed from hope, open, and gray stares back at him. The air passes between his lips in a defeated sigh, and he continues on with his day, wishing desperately that wherever his soulmate hides, they’re yearning for his touch too. 

His darkened world is a familiarity he’s gotten so used to he can’t help but think that maybe it’s okay, if he never sees in color. “I’m probably just one of those people who’s not cut out for love, for getting that happy ending like you guys.” He had confessed one night, as he was watching a movie he couldn’t appreciate in the way Craig and Brock were. The scenes on screen flashed by in hues of gray, and he was left to imagine how the woman’s hair looked, why her lover compared it to fires that scorched a path many would follow blindly. 

The film was paused shortly after though, and the two guys Ryan’s been lucky enough to call best friends turned their attention to him. Craig’s brows were furrowed, and Brock bit at his lip, the frown on his face tugging it down. He doesn’t really know how they look, but Craig has told him his hair is blonde, bright and noticeable in a crowd full of people, the compliment given by his boyfriend Tyler. Brock’s hair is brown, Ryan’s been told, a color that is apparently warm and inviting. It’s disheartening to know that though they’ve been friends for years, he still doesn’t fully know them; it’s a thought he’ll swear doesn’t bother him, but he’s positive they believe otherwise. 

“Do you really think that?” Brock breaks the awkward silence, and Ryan sighs, regret heavy on him for letting his mind get carried away. 

“No, not really. But, it’s hard not to think it. Especially when you two have already met your soulmates and I’m the friend who still has to be told what color I’m looking at.” If he comes across a little resentful they don’t mention it, instead shuffle closer and wrap him in a hug.

He stares over their shoulders, huffing a laugh despite his mood when Craig mutters, “Look at it this way, if you somehow end up alone, which I doubt by the way, Tyler and I will just adopt you as our colorless seeing son.”  

“How can you adopt me when I’m older than you guys?” 

“Well-” 

“I think what Craig’s trying to say,” Brock cuts in, pulling back and flashing the smile Ryan doesn’t have to see in color to know it’s one full of support, “Is that you  _ are _ going to find your soulmate and be happy and see things in ways you can only dream of, just give it some time. You two will find each other.”

Those words are dipped in hope and for someone like Ryan, who embraces doubt like a secret lover, they skid past his heart and settle in territory full of dark thoughts that eat it up. He forces a smile, heaves a sigh of exasperation, at both himself and the situation, and claps his hands to lighten the mood. 

“You’re right,” he breathes, through a closed mouth from fear of saying too much if it opens, “Just have to stay positive.” The past years ring loud in his mind, flashing images of a muted world, of no one by his side, and positivity doesn’t stand a chance. He goes to bed that night with a heavy heart, a stomach full of stones, and lead swimming through his veins. As he stares up at the exponentially darker and cloudy ceiling, he hopes and prays and wishes, on everything he knows of, that time will finally be on his side. That it won’t be much longer before his soulmate is in his arms, trailing fingers over every inch of skin until every color of the imagination swirls around them. 

He falls asleep to those thoughts, dreaming of a magical world so bright and alive, poets would write a million poems for the planet itself, and life that lives galaxies light years away would make the long travel to set their eyes upon such a captivating place. It would be a home full of love, boundless love sweeping through hearts and engulfing it until it explodes like a star, leaving behind a blinding brightness that speaks volumes of its creation. The fantasy serves as Ryan’s lullaby, and he burrows further in his blankets, a smile dripping in unrealistic dreams highlights his face before sleep overtakes him fully.   

**

Nights are hard for Ryan, but mornings come with new beginnings and promises of a better day. There’s something about the new day he loves, though that might be because of his routine of going down to the bridge by his home, and feeling his skin heat up by a sun he can’t see. He hears it’s beautiful, a brightness unlike any other, and as he stands overlooking what is surely an ethereal view of the sky, he thinks about all the colors he’s heard of and imagines it’s an endless sea of them. 

He slips out of his house quietly, breathes in the air of his city, and wraps his arms around himself from the slight breeze as he begins the short walk. The streets are void of any people and he’s able to walk freely, enjoy his stroll in peace, with the only company being the occasional wind that whispers all around. During times like this, Ryan smiles and thinks it would be okay, more than okay, if he never found his soulmate; he gets lonely frequently, but he’s not alone, and he knows if he never gets to meet his soulmate everything would still carry on effortlessly, despite being able to see things in their true form or not.

The bridge comes into view after a few more minutes, and it’s not a special bridge or anything fancy, but a simple one that sits over a small body of water. It’s rough under Ryan’s hands as he grips it, leans over and overlooks everything out before him. A block of gray, unmoving and giving no room to imagine what lies just beyond that, if he could see things fully, greets him back. 

_ Some day,  _ he thinks, he’ll look out over this bridge and be able to  _ see.  _ There will be no hiding from his eyes; he will stare unabashedly, without fail, at everything once hidden from him. It’s a comforting and reassuring thought as he looks without seeing, one he’s going to remind himself of when uncertainty tries to worm its way inside his head. 

“Is it pretty? The view, I mean.” Ryan nearly jumps out of his skin at the foreign voice, and he quickly looks over, seeing a man standing a few feet away, eyes staring out in front.

He lowers away from leaning, and stares openly at the stranger. The man has a beard, short hair that Ryan bets is soft, and he’s taller, but only slightly. After a few short minutes he realizes he still has yet to answer and his face warms, when the guy looks at Ryan, when a small mouth lifts in a tiny smirk.

Ryan has to avert his eyes, embarrassed at being caught. 

“I wouldn’t know.” He finally says, not daring to look back over at the man-there’s something about him, something fascinating in this unknown way, that makes Ryan want to stare and just take it all in. He doesn’t want to come across creepy though, so he forces his head not to turn, when there’s a soft laugh, a sound that ripples through Ryan’s core and his brain shouts,  _ again.  _

“Yeah, I can’t see it either.” 

Despite his inner protests just minutes prior, Ryan spares a glance, immediately getting lost in who stands next to him. He leans on one arm, chin resting in a palm Ryan imagines ghosting his fingers over, while the other arm dangles over the bridge, swaying to nothing. His face rests peacefully, no frowns or smiles being shown, but still, Ryan can’t look away. 

He stares and wonders, about the details he can’t see. Ryan wants to know what color his eyes are, if they shine bright with passion and sparkle with exuberance. Or if they have a mellow light that emits sweetness, full of soft love that’s meant to reassure, to caress the heart they gaze at. He wants to see the man’s hair color, how it appears under sunlight.

“You always stare at strangers like that? Or am I just special?” Ryan startles out of his thoughts, and promptly looks away when he sees the man staring back. He’s been caught, again, and his face heats up, travels towards his ears and he will absolutely  _ not  _ look at the man, not after that. 

“Shut up.” He huffs, biting back a smile at the sound of loud laughter, one that comes across carefree. 

“I’m just going to pretend you’re blushing while saying that. You know, now that I think about it, I bet you look really cute embarrassed.” He’s teasing Ryan, and if possible, his face ignites even more. His heart beats heavily in his chest, and he can’t fight the grin that dances on his lips even if he tried.

“How can you be so confident? You don’t even know what a blush looks like. For all you know it makes people look hideous.” 

The silence that lingers only lasts for brief seconds, but long enough to get Ryan worried, that he might’ve said something wrong. When he glances over the man is already staring, and at being caught he shrugs, smiling in a way Ryan has never seen; he imagines the eyes that accompany that smile are hopeful, pools of tenderness. 

“I don’t need to see one to know it would suit you, or that it would make you look even more pretty, prettier than you are now- and that’s because I don’t even fully know what you look like, but I see enough.” 

Ryan stares at the man, and they stare at each other, seeing nothing but also everything. He doesn’t know why this stranger he’s never met before sounds confident in his words, assured as if he just  _ knows.  _ He doesn’t know why he can’t stop staring, can’t get his eyes to look out at the bland scenery he comes here for, doesn’t know why he can’t imagine leaving this place, leaving behind this stranger. 

He’s confused, and a bit scared, but it’s exciting all the same. And maybe it’s out of character for him to do this, but when everything is gravitating him towards the man, he finds himself asking, “Do you...maybe, want to go get coffee after this?”  

The man’s eyebrows shoot up, but not in a way that suggests he’d say no, instead one that’s full of surprise, and the smile that follows after blinds Ryan, even if it’s clouded by gray. 

“I for sure thought I’d be the one making the first move, but I happen to be a fan of surprises.” 

Ryan laughs, shaking his head, “You say all those things and you expect me to just stand here and listen? Sounds like someone might have a bit of an ego, huh?” 

“So I’ve been told, but for you I’ll be nothing but a gentleman you can take back home to meet friends and family, promise.”

“Yeah? That sounded rehearsed; how can I be sure you’re not flaunting that ego around to others and I’m the unsuspecting fool?” 

Ryan’s smile grows, as the other leans forward, lips quirking up when their eyes lock, “You’ll just have to believe me when I say I couldn’t stop myself from walking over, when I saw you staring out at something I couldn’t see, a look on your face that I bet is prettier than any sunrise I haven’t had the pleasure of knowing yet.” 

Ryan looks away first, lowering his gaze and hiding his smile against his shoulder, “Jerk,” he breathes, at a loss for words. 

The man only laughs, pointing an accusing finger as he bursts out, “Are you blushing right now? You are, aren’t you? How many times have I made you blush in the past ten minutes? It’s gotta be a world record by now, right?” 

His smile is playful when Ryan looks back over, and he rolls his eyes, “Don’t think so highly of yourself, what flirt wouldn’t ask for the person’s name before chatting them up?” 

He watches with an amused smile as the guy pauses, muttering under his breath, “You’re right” that’s quickly overshadowed by a hand being outstretched, and the other smiling wide at Ryan. 

“I must have just gotten so distracted by how pretty you are that I forgot. I’m Luke, though.” 

Ryan hums appreciatevely at the name, finding it suits him well, and he reaches forward, grabbing the hand that waits for his, “I’m Ryan, nice to finally put a name to your face.” 

It starts slow, a gradual transition. Ryan doesn’t notice anything for seconds, finds he’s too busy smiling and staring at Luke, but something reflects in the corner of his eyes and he turns, confused at the stark contrast to everything else. 

Slowly his hand slips from Luke’s own limp grasp, and his heart hammers painfully in his chest, at the colorful mess scattered on the bridge, in the form of leaves. 

“Oh,” passes between his lips, as he looks up, sees the trees he always thought were ugly, now decorated by colors Ryan’s never seen, “Is this...what fall looks like?”  

September never meant anything to him, it’s been just another month that goes by, but he thinks he understands now, why Brock says fall is his favorite season. 

“I-I’m not sure.” Is whispered close to him and he looks back over at Luke, but any words that were going to come out drift away with the breeze, and his heart both stops and restarts at the same time, when he sees Luke. 

“Oh.” Is all he manages to say again, throat closing shortly after when Luke turns his attention back to Ryan at the word, and Ryan can pinpoint when his heart stops too. 

His hands move on their own, lift and reach for a face that steals his breath, but gives him life. Fingers trail over cheeks, smooth a thumb over the slight dip just under Luke’s eyes, and cradle a face between gentle hands. Ryan can only stare, hypnotized.

“Your eyes are...deep,” he whispers, as he gazes into an abyss of something he’s never seen before, “They make me feel warm, like I’m safe. They’re elegant, and-” he sighs, frustrated at not being able to properly describe the color he’s sure will become his favorite, “I don’t know how to explain it, but you have to believe me when I say they’re everything I imagined a color would be and I can’t stop staring because of how...gentle they are.” 

“It’s okay,” Luke replies in his own hushed tone, voice full of wonder as his own eyes flicker all over Ryan’s face, “I understand. But, I think once you see the sky you’ll forget all about my eyes.” 

He goes to protest, because nothing will make him think Luke doesn’t hold the prettiest color in those eyes of his, but Luke only shakes his head and softly turns him, points and says nothing. Ryan’s world, in a second, is flipped upside down. 

It’s blinding, those swirls of colors high in the sky, the same expansion of space that was previously void of anything so captivating. He stares, walks forward, and with shaky hands grips the stone bridge with enough force he’s sure he cuts his hand, but he’s dreamed of this moment for what feels like forever. Countless nights have been spent wishing on a starless night sky that he get to view the world for what it is, see the clouds Craig swears look fluffy enough to sleep on. That he gets to see the sun, instead of only feeling it heat his skin. And now it’s there, in front of him, sending a spark through his soul and electrifying him in ways that get his knees shaking, heart fluttering. 

He feels the teardrop slide down his cheek before he realizes he’s crying, and he quickly wipes it away, embarrassed of being so emotional besides the presence still close to him. It doesn’t go unnoticed of course, and an arm wraps around his neck, pulls him against a sturdy chest. He stares at the brightly colored shirt under his face, and smiles, overcome with a giddiness he’s only felt once, minutes prior and because of the man who currently holds him. 

They stand there in silence for several beats, gazing out at a breathtaking view. Ryan absorbs all he can, tries not to blink in fear of it vanishing as quickly as it came. A quiet laugh breaks through the atmosphere, and Ryan looks up, smiling at the darker colored beard he can now see. 

“Took us long enough to find each other. I was beginning to think I’d be an old guy before your ass finally showed up.” 

Ryan snorts, elbowing Luke in the side and trying not to kiss off the grin that stares back at him. 

“What are you talking about? You’re already an old guy. You’re in luck though because I happen to have a thing for older men with beards.” 

“Yeah? You do know there’s a lot of guys out there who fit that description, right? What if you go and swoon the pants off one of them too?” 

Ryan wraps his arm tighter around Luke’s waist, and hopes he portrays how earnest he is when he says, “Why would I go off doing that when I’ve finally got my soulmate right next to me?” 

Luke gets this look on his face that’s untranslatable, as he averts his eyes and smiles out at the open and colorful space before them, but Ryan understands everything that isn’t said. He lets Luke turn them and lead the way, but he’s starting to learn that teasing Luke is his new favorite hobby. 

“By the way, I think you take the blushing award. You should’ve seen yourself just then, and if you thought the sky was bright, you’d be surprised to see what your face did when I just even mentioned us being soulmates. I wonder what else can get that same reaction? Mr. I’m A Confident Flirt.” 

“Hey!” Luke laughs, tugging on Ryan’s ear, “Who’s about to buy you coffee? You keep that up and you can just forget about me properly swooning you with my excellent flirting skills.” 

Ryan laughs and becomes a mess of smiles and bright eyes and maybe even some tears, but for so long he’s yearned for this exact moment, of this exact feeling. It turned out better than expected, with a million more feelings and colors he couldn’t have accounted for, but he gazes and feels and gets lost in this euphoria of happiness, with his missing half, found half and soulmate, right by his side. 

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this idea was really cool and wanted to try writing it, still not entirely sure if it worked out properly. But I hope you all enjoyed it anyways :)


End file.
